Destiny and Time Divide You
by writersblock87
Summary: "You won't be strong enough. She's the key. Her and her alone. Destiny and time divide you. Without her, you can only live half a life. " Fun with prophecies and time travel! A work in progress...fyi I own nothing HP, just having a little fun! Thank you all for the nice reviews!
1. The Prophecy

Tom Riddle strolled down the hall to the Slytherin Common room, thinking of a meeting he had planned that evening with a few of his most ardent followers. Soon, very soon, he would initiate his plan to ensure his own power and immortality and their unwavering support was key. His entire life had been building to this moment, the moment he would fracture his own soul.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the first year girl who scooted past him, nervously avoiding him, until she fell to the ground. He heard a thunk as she hit the ground. Her papers flew across the stone floor.

He turned, looking at the girl crumpled on the ground. She was immobile, with a nasty gash to her forehead beginning to bleed, matting her long blond hair. Suddenly, she sat straight up, her big, blue eyes unblinking. She stared at him, her eyes glazed over. Her hand raised, her finger pointed at him.

"You won't be strong enough. She's the key. Her and her alone. Destiny and time divide you. Without her, you can only live half a life. "

The girl slumped again. Riddle froze a moment, stunned by her words. His mind began to race, but a low moan from the girl broke his trance. He rushed to her, shaking her shoulders until she began to wake.

"Girl, what just happened to you?"

"I don't know, Mr. Riddle. I was walking along and it all went dark." She looked afraid, likely of his reputation.

"You don't remember anything. Nothing you said? Nothing you saw?" He tried to infuse a note of compassion on his voice, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He had never excelled at comforting others, not that he had ever really tried.

"No sir." The girl replied, reaching her hand up to inspect the gash on her head.

"Get yourself to the hospital wing, girl."

He worked hard to control the tone of his voice, to give away no hint of the emotion he was feeling. Inside, however, he was reeling. He rushed through the common room, avoiding the attempts of several subordinates to engage him. They, being use to his moods, simply averted their eyes and pretended not to notice his angry expression.

He made his way to his room. It was unusual to have a room of one's own within the dorms, but the other Slytherin males were only too happy to crowd themselves in to the other boys dormitory space to ensure his comfort. His space was quite cozy, including a rather large bed and a comfortable seating area in addition to his desk and shelves full of books and items from his collection of magical artifacts.

He threw himself on to his bed, replaying the girl's words over and over. There was no sense in disputing that the girl had had a vision. Her prophecy rang with truth, especially given his coming plans.

"Without her, you can only live half a life." He had spent his entire life avoiding any such connection. He prided himself on the fact that he did not need anyone in his life. He did use people from time to time, but only for singular purposes and they were always disposable to him.

Whoever she was, of course, he needed to find her. The prophecy didn't specify her exact usefulness, but he had faith enough in himself to know that he could quickly deduce how said woman could be of use to him. He twirled his family ring about as he pondered his next step. No descendant of Salazar Slytherin would let something so mundane stand in his way.

The part he really couldn't quite wrap his head around was "Destiny and time divide you." Was it just space, a simple summoning spell could resolve the issue. Time and destiny, however, were another matter entirely. The vagueness of divination has always been one of the main reason he put such little stock in its study. Still, he was quite confident that there was no problem too great for him to solve…no destiny he could not bend to his own will.


	2. The Baron

Tom continued his preoccupation with the prophecy. He was so focused, in fact that he cancelled his planned meeting to solidify his forces before creating his first horcrux. In part, his mind was too fixated on finding a way to find the mysterious girl from the prophecy. The second, and far more embarrassing reason, was that he had a small voice in his head telling him that if he began his enterprise before he solved the riddle it was doomed to failure.

He spent countless nights in the restricted section of the library, even ransacked the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but it was all useless. There was no hint of a spell or dark object that that could pull a person through time and space. His frustration had begun to seep in to every aspect of his life. He couldn't sleep, didn't eat. He had spent hours attempting to interrogate the first year who had conveyed the prophecy. The stink of fear each time he spoke to her had convinced him that she would gladly have told him any further information if she could have, just to escape him.

His followers had taken to remaining completely silent around him, only speaking when spoken to. It was for that reason that he was quite startled when he heard a rather cultured voice coming from behind him as he sat gazing into the fire in his room.

"Mr. Riddle, I know how you can find what you seek."

Tom turned to see none other than the Bloody Baron hovering behind him.

"I highly doubt that Baron." He said with no attempt to disguise the annoyance in his voice.

"You forget, my boy, that I spent the better part of my life attempting to bring Rowena to my side. I searched the earth for any possible way to secure the woman one desires most. " The Baron looked almost wistful as he spoke.

"If you knew of such a method, then why didn't you use it yourself? Why did you chase her to the ends of the earth?"

"Ah, well, she wasn't in a different time. It was not destiny that stood between us. It was her will that was insurmountable. Still, I gathered a good bit on information during my search. I was abroad when I heard of the legend of a local man who lost his love when he was quite young. He devoted his life to finding the Hallows. When he failed, he began to think that defeating time might be easier than cheating death. "

"I imagine it would be. That doesn't mean that it is possible." Tom did his best to hide his growing excitement as he spoke, but he began to feel a strange sense of optimism even greater than when he had convinced Slughorn to share the details of horcrux creation with him.

"Oh it is very possible. You see, this wizard speculated that if the object of his desire was called from a moment in which her grasp on life was tenuous as best, it would be possible draw them through time. His love was brutally murdered. He knew that there was a moment before her death that she could be called from."

"So he stole her from death's grasp?"

"No, no not exactly. You see, he felt the desire for her with every heartbeat. It seeped in to his blood. It took him a while to realize it, but the merger of his desire and his blood, his life force, created magic in its most potent form. He deduced that blood could call to blood if the desire was strong enough. Her life force just needs to be weak enough that it can be conquered by the force of your own."

"And how could I possibly know that some mystery woman from some unknown time and place has had such a moment?"

The Baron looked a bit smug just then, calmly stating "My boy, I'll wager that any women who might be of some use to you in what you have planned will have had more than one such moment."

"Why are you helping me?" Tom asked with a hint of wariness and disbelief in his voice.

"Ah, Riddle, just because I failed in my quest doesn't mean I don't still believe in the power of love. I want you to be happy my boy; to have every joy in life on your way to great power."

"The prophecy made no mention of love and I hold no stock in it, but I thank you for your help."

"Oh I have a feeling that this girl will change that, but only time will tell. I have an endless amount of that on my hands and I do look forward to seeing how this plays out."

With those words, the Baron passed through the wall and left Tom alone in the fire's glow. As the flames dances, he caught their reflection on one of the daggers amongst his collected artifacts and his plan began to form.


	3. The Ritual

Tom gathered his inner circle in the Room of Requirements, 12 Slytherin diehards who would lay down their lives to further his vision of pureblood domination. In fact it was that dedication that Riddle was counting on to make his plan work. He had spent the three days since his conversation with The Bloody Baron trying to think of a way that he could ensure that his blood was strong enough to draw the mysterious girl from the prophecy through time to him. The Baron had emphasized the role that desire and love could play in the process. While his desire to find her was strong, he did not believe in romantic love and therefore could not rely on such silliness to aid him in his quest.

His followers sat in a circle around him, eagerly awaiting his explanation of their next step. He had told them only that he needed them to gather and prove their loyalty.

"I thank you all for joining me this evening. You have all expressed your desire to serve me and my cause to the fullest extent. I ask you now to prove it. I need you to prove to me that your greatest desire is to further my cause."

Though none of those assembled dared to speak, they all nodded their heads in unison, so committed were they to him.

"I need to harness your powers to strengthen my own. I need to access a more primal form of magic." As he spoke, he pulled a dagger from under his robes. The handle was formed of two serpents intertwined. "I do not ask you to give your lives on this day, but I do need your blood. I need to access your life force in order to pull one who can ensure our victory through time and space. Join me now and ensure our future!"

He handed the dagger to Scaripus Black, a suave young man of above average intellect and appearance, and gestured to a silver dish positioned in the center of the circle. Scar, as he was commonly called, did not hesitate. He drew the blade across his palm and let his blood flow freely in to the vessel. He then passed the blade to the next, and so on.

The vial filled quickly, nearly brimming over as the last of his subordinates, a scrawny blonde Malfoy boy with a rather distinguished face, made his sacrifice. He then returned to his spot in the circle, facing Riddle with the rest of the group, awaiting his next step.

Without any explanation, Riddle lifted the dagger from its spot on the table and ran it across the inside of each of his hands, letting the blood drain until it overflowed. It was then that he began to focus only on his desire to acquire the girl. He blocked out his followers, the room, and focused on nothing but his blood and his desire. He was so focused on her, in fact, that a strange yet familiar face began to form in his mind's eye. The girl was his own age and quite lovely, with an intelligent face framed by a riot of curly brown hair. It was, however, the eyes of the strange girl that he focused on as he channeled his blood desire.

He was so absorbed that he did not even realize that he had begun to chant "Sanguine sanguineous" over and over. His stunned followers joined in without consciously doing so, so connected were they to the primal magic he was weaving.

The chants filled the room, echoing off the cavernous walls, the pace quickening with each repetition.

"Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous"

Tom could feel her moving closer, could feel the universe bending to his will.

"Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous Sanguine sanguineous"

Suddenly, a shudder ran through his body and he abruptly stopped, as did the others in the room. He felt exhausted, yet there was a new feeling, a feeling he couldn't quite identify. He looked about, knowing that she was now near, but saw no trace. His mind was racing, what might he have done differently? His thoughts were interrupted by a scream coming from the corridor outside of the Room of Requirements.

Tom threw himself through the door, into the hallway. Students were gathered around a slumped body on the floor. It was then that he saw that fool Dumbledore reach the scene. Tom watched in disbelief as the crowd separated to make room for the professor to reach the unfortunate creature. As they separated, Tom realized that the body lying on the stone floor was that of a girl. She was badly bruised, with several wounds seeping into bloody pools on the floor. The worst appeared to be coming from her forearm, with an angry gash on her neck rivaling it in severity.

As Dumbeldore pushed back her tangled hair to reveal her face, Tom's breath caught in his through. He knew that face, those eyes. She was the one, the one he needed to complete his work. Something sparked inside of him when he laid eyes upon her. He wanted nothing more than to gather her up, to take her away from all those looking upon her. He wanted her to belong only to him. Destiny and time were no longer an obstacle. She was his now and she would make all the difference.


	4. The Awakening

Hermione awoke alone in the Hospital Wing. Her mind was racing. Her last memory was of the feeling of Bellatrix Lestrange's knife against her next. The bandage around her neck and sharp pain she felt confirmed that to be a true memory. What she couldn't understand was how she had gone from that moment, to this one. Though she was quite sore and very weak, she was warmly tucked in a comfortable bed in a familiar environment. If it weren't for the pain, she would be fairly sure it was all an illusion cooked up by her brain to shield her from Bellatrix's torture.

Another anomaly that she couldn't rationalize was the fact that she had woken up alone. Harry and Ron had been with her at Malfoy Manor. If they had been rescued, one of them would have been by her bedside when she woke. There had been others; she was very sure, in the basement of the Manor who would also have needed medical care. Why were none of them here recuperating? The dark thought that perhaps she was the only survivor was seemed more and more likely as he continued to analyze her situation. The thought of such loss, such sacrifice overtook her and she began to feel the grief overtake her. Professor Dumbledore came rushing towards her and the site of her dead mentor was just too much for her battered mind to handle and she lost consciousness.

Tom often used the pipes and passageways that connected to the Chamber of Secrets to gain access to various parts of the castle, but he could honestly say that this was the first time he had reduced himself to eavesdropping, and in the hospital wing no less. Still, he needed information on the girl and he was fairly sure that no professors, not even that idiot Slugghorn, would freely share it with him. It was for that reason that he now crouched in an air vent high on one of the walls near where she was being kept.

While all the other students rushed towards her as she lay unconscious in the hallway to appease their curiosity, Tom had sauntered off to the Chamber unseen, knowing that this would give him the ideal vantage point to learn all he needed to know.

He had seen Dumbledore carry her in, and the nurses had descended upon her wounds. After stoping the excessive bleeding from her neck and forearm, they had turned to cleaning and bandaging her many smaller injuries, including what appeared to Tom to be a sprained ankle and a separated shoulder. The girl never regained consciousness, never made a sound as the worked on her. The occasional flinch was the only thing that assured him that she was alive.

The professor had wasted no time ordering the nurses to evacuate the few students in the wing to a vacant suite of rooms on the other side of the castle. Tom suspected that the old fool was a bit worried that whoever had caused the girls wounds wasn't done with her. Dumbledore had then slipped out himself to organize a protective detail for the girl and cast protection charms around the wing.

Tom was quite curious about the nature of her wounds himself. They were clearly the product of extensive torture, but what information could that girl have that would merit such force and what strength she must have had to withstand it. As he sat there, alone with his thoughts, he grew more and more curious about who she was and what life he had pulled her from.

He sat, watching her sleep for what felt like hours, when finally she began to rouse. He watched her slowly open her eyes and take in every detail of her surroundings, like a battle tested soldier. Though she was clearly disoriented, the look on her face remained fiercely determined. It was only when Dumbledore returned to the room and began to approach her that she looked truly distressed. He had never liked the man, but seeing her so overcome that she lost consciousness at the site of him only confirm his animosity. There was clearly a history between them, whether in the past or in the future.

The one thing that Tom Riddle did know for sure was that it would not be long before he found out.


End file.
